


You knew!

by TheLibrarian (es101wx)



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7827775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/es101wx/pseuds/TheLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra is trying to cope with Flynn and Eve's absence. Jenkins is stuck in his own head. (yeah, I suck at summaries, it's quite clear, isn't it?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I have developed these strong Cassandra/Jenkins feelings and I don't even know why... But they didn't want to leave my head so, as we say, here we are, folks!

Cassandra Cillian was upset – and sad, incredibly sad. Those two aspects, combined, were what was making impossible for her to sleep: she missed Eve, she missed Flynn, but must of all, she couldn’t believe how Jenkins had become…distant, after they’ve lost the Librarian and his – their – Guardian. The old knight was now silent, constantly seeking solitude, his nose buried in this book or the other. Looking for a solution he was, of course, but at the same time she was feeling alone, too, and nobody seemed to notice it. Nobody seemed to _care_.

Not that she was not accustomed to being invisible, yes, but she had thought… Well, she was supposed to be among friends, wasn’t she? It wasn’t _so_ much, to ask for a little bit of attention? She tossed and turned between the sheets, again. If she allowed herself to be honest – and it was not _so_ easy in the first place – she had to admit she didn’t care so much whether Stone or Ezekiel notice her sadness or not, but Jenkins… In the last months they apparently started to share what it had seemed a special connection – and, well, a couple of stolen kisses, too – and now such a distance was all the more upsetting. And painful.

Yes, Cassandra Cillian was in pain, and for once it didn’t have nothing to do with her brain. It had everything to do with her heart.

So she got up, barefoot and quiet, and slowly, step by step, she headed for Jenkin’s bedroom. They needed to talk. She needed an explanation and it was quite important that there were no ears ready to catch what they could have said, except theirs. A little voice in her brain pointed out she needed to see him, too, just see him, but she preferred to ignore it. After all, it was more than possible that that little voice came from her heart.

 

«Who’s there?»

«Me.»

«Oh. Oh, Miss Cillian, is everything alright?» It was concern, that in his voice?

«Yes…No. Well, no, it’s… I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t know.» Her voice cracked, her last words nothing more than a strangled cry. One moment later he was up and at her side, clearly worried, his hand on her shoulder.

«It’s about Colonel Baird, isn’t it?» Cassandra nodded, but she didn’t dare to lift her eyes on him. All of the sudden she was feeling very ashamed for that nightly trip – and very, very stupid. «I’m sorry for these last days. I didn’t intend to keep you at bay, believe me, just…»

«You knew, then!»

«I knew,» he admitted, a hint of deep sadness in his tone. «And I’m sorry, I really am, I was just… I don’t know. Trying to cope, I suppose.»

«Well, I was trying to cope, too, and I felt _terribly_ alone!»

«I’m sorry,» he said, and there were _two_ hands on Cassandra’s shoulders by the time he spoke. «I’m really, really sorry,» he said again, while those two hands travelled down her arms. «But you have to understand, I’ve been here all by myself for so long…I think I forgot how it is, to rely on another person when I’m hurt. And I’m hurt, I admit it. I can’t stand the thought we’re not able to do a thing to bring them back.»

«But I’m here,» she nodded, tears in her voice, «And I’m hurt, too, and grieving, and… I don’t want to grieve alone, Jenkins. It’s too much. I can’t cope, not by myself…»

By the time she quietly started to sob, his hands intertwined with hers, slowly, almost reverently. And Cassandra made the last, little step, landing safely against his chest. She needed that hug, she needed _his_ hug, and when he finally closed his arms around her she felt safe – she felt _home_.

He had no idea about how long they stayed that way, barely moving except for some little caress here and there. But the moment to break the contact came, in the end, and both of them found out they _didn’t want_ to break apart. There had been a glance – his – and a little smile – hers – and a silent question – his – followed by a brief nod and a broader smile. And the man who had been a knight and friend of King Arthur knelt in front of the young woman who lived her life with a death sentence, and kissed her hands, and kissed her stomach, and lifted her in his arms and took her to his bed.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

She was… _beautiful_ , very beautiful. And he knew it was merely a word – and not the most accurate word one could have expected from a man who had spent centuries among books – but she was. Beautiful. Delicate. Bright. Kind. Amazing, truth to be told. And kissable, oh-so-kissable. He lost himself in her lips, gently asking for access, and there he was, lost again, completely lost in that battle that wasn’t a battle but more an act of worship. He, a man once devoted to war and fight, lost in the kisses of a woman who was several _lifetimes_ younger than him. He felt a sting – it was wrong, isn’t it?, feeling such a desire for her, so perfect and young and…

«I’m afraid we shouldn’t,» he exhaled, breaking the kiss. She looked up, caught his eyes, and again she smiled, reassuringly.

«I can’t care less of what you’re afraid of,» she murmured; her right hand landed softly on his cheek. «You’re my knight in shining armour, Galahad, aren’t you?»

«Not so sure about the shining armour part, but… Well, I can try.»

«See? It wasn’t difficult, after all…»

«But you’re so…So young, so vibrant, and I…»

Her eyes clouded – he could have sworn there were tears, pooled behind her eyelashes, and it broke his heart. «I could die tomorrow, you know. I don’t know for how long my…I just want to feel – to _be_ – loved. Once in my life. Is it too much to ask to be loved?»

«Oh, my dear,» he couldn’t help himself to hug her, to plant soft kisses in her red hair, «But you are. You _are_ loved. Very much. Truly, deeply loved…» He kissed her forehead reverently, his lips lightly indulging over her skin. «It’s just I don’t…I don’t know if it’s right. I’m afraid it isn’t, you see.»

Cassandra swallowed her tears, allowing her hands to wander along his back. The soft grazing of her nails made difficult for him to focus. «But you love me? Do you love me, Galahad? Tell me the truth. I’m begging you.»

«I do,» he finally admitted, his voice just a breath. «God forgive me, I do…» And Cassandra Cillian nodded, and let her lips stir in a wonderful, warm smile.

«How could love be wrong?» she asked, but she didn’t wait for the answer. She brought her lips up against his again, slowly melting in the kiss both of them so deeply desired, starting to unbutton his pyjamas top. By the time she completed her task, and was finally able to plant a kiss on his chest, he knew he couldn’t stop that folly anymore.

His kisses grew in intensity, his desire burning and matching her own – and she giggled when his hands closed possessively around her waist, tentatively reaching for her breasts. Her nightgown fell discarded out of the bed, and a moment later she was guiding his fingers to meet the soft flesh of her bosom: the hardening nipples were soon taken care of by a rain of little kisses and a soft suckling, and Cassandra arched towards Jenkins’ mouth, silently begging for more.

He sucked and kissed devotedly, taking his time, showering each breast with equal attention, enjoying the soft, delighted moans which left her throat. And he felt young again, full of passion and love, as the walls he had built around his heart started to crumble. Her nails graze his shoulders and he decided to neglect his previous occupation in order to go back and kiss her – and he did it, exploring her mouth, lavishing every inch of her body with his touches. He startled, though, when it was her touch to reach for him, carefully closing her fingers around his manhood. He startled but her kiss was there to reassure him, and as soon as he started to relax her hand began to rub him, slowly but deliberately, until he couldn’t stand more.

«Cassandra…»

«Just…Love me?»

And with that she spread her legs under him, inviting him to finally lay between them – when did she free his member from the pyjama bottom, he couldn’t have said, but there they were, almost naked, flushed and panting, his erection standing between them more than ready to act. Jenkins stood on his elbows and took his time in kissing her one more time, then, after the umpteenth nod of encouragement from her, he aligned himself to her opening and gently entered her.

It was in this very moment that he knew he wouldn’t ever forget the sound of her breath breaking, the satisfaction in her eyes, the feeling of her fingers digging possessively in the flesh of his back. And he started moving, tentatively variating the angle in order to impress into his mind what gave her the most pleasure. He pushed deeply, strongly – and her body mirrored his movement willingly, taking everything he was giving to her. In. Out. In. Out. They set a pace which let them feel every inch of one another, like their nerves were all on fire. He pumped into her with devotion, trying to give her the more pleasure he could, and was so pleased in seeing the bliss all over her features that he had to focus hard in order not to finish too soon. In. Out. In. Out. Hitting that spot, kissing those lips, enjoying every hiss and every moan and every cry for more.

Then Cassandra stopped him, silently asking to switch their position, and a moment later she had him in her hand and was positioning over his lap, impaling herself on his throbbing manhood. They remained still for a little, adjusting to the new position and to the renewed intimacy they were sharing, kissing hungrily – so hungrily that when she finally started to move her hips he feared he would have exploded in a matter of seconds. But he could manage, in the end, and what had begun as a soft, erotic motion became a rocking, then a riding. She started riding him, his hands strong on his hips, her arms resting on his shoulder. She was riding him and all he could do was enjoy the moment, enjoy the friction between them, the sensation of his member deeply encased into her, the way their bodies seemed made to combine together. He was close, too close, and not wanting for her to remain back he brought a hand where their bodies were joined and into the wetness that was their coupling he started to rub her clit with slow, circular motions. She cried, hit by the intensity of her climax, and when her head fall back he kept on pushing, emptying himself as he erratically kissed her cleavage, hugging her against his chest, murmuring nonsenses against her skin.

And they collapsed, still joined, one intertwined to the other, panting and sweating and, the most important thing of all, smiling.

«So,» whispered Cassandra, kissing his shoulder, «it wasn’t such a big deal, was it?, trying to love me…»

«I was trying _not to_ ,» he replied meekly, holding her against his heart.


End file.
